Bad Choices
by Tae-la-la
Summary: Kurtofsky.  Kurt goes to a party at the Adams household.  When things get a little out of hand, someone will have to come to his rescue.


This was really stupid.

Kurt was aware of how stupid it was, because he was the one who always made the smart choices. He could smell disaster coming. Disaster smelled of alcohol and nachos, and smoke wafting up from the basement of the Adams home.

It was common knowledge that Azimio's parents had gone on a second honeymoon to celebrate their anniversary, so it was also common knowledge that his house would be a non-stop drinking party for the remainder of the weekend. The football team and Cheerios (excluding of course 'straight-as-an-arrow Finn', 'too-good-to-be-here Quinn', and 'I'd-rather-be-coloring Brittany') had become permanent fixtures there, and other members of the student body cycled in and out night after night. Most of the Glee club had made their way through and returned with a story.

No one expected Kurt to be curious. But he was. Saturday night, a week after Blaine had broken up with him, he was itching for… something. He didn't know what. His world had been turned on its head, and watching life-as-usual just happen all around him was _infuriating_. It felt like everything should be different. His first and only relationship had fallen apart, and the world hadn't.

So maybe he'd come here to force it to fall apart. Maybe he just needed to experience something new.

It didn't matter why, he was here now; standing with a red plastic cup of mystery-alcohol, handed to him by someone who may or may not have been on the hockey team. He'd never felt more awkward.

"You really shouldn't be here."

Kurt recognized the voice just over his left shoulder, and relief mingled with anger. He wasn't sure why either one was appropriate. "That's none of your concern."

The voice was soft. Concerned, maybe, despite Kurt's sentiment. "Kurt, please. Just leave. You're better than this."

He turned to the other boy, glaring. "Maybe I'm not, David."

Dave sighed heavily, looking around at the partiers and then back to Kurt as if to make sure no one saw them talking. Fighting that urge to stay inconspicuous, he spoke again. "You just got dumped, you're upset, I get it. But don't stay here until something goes wrong, because it will."

Kurt kept their eyes locked as he raised the cup to his lips and took a sip. Dave let out a frustrated sigh and looked away as if watching it was a sin. Kurt stifled a cough. It was stronger than he'd imagined.

Dave's eyes didn't return to the other boy's face.

Kurt took another drink, hid another cough.

* * *

><p>Kurt clutched the edge of the couch for support, his third – fourth? – cup wobbling dangerously in the other hand. People just kept handing him drinks, and he just kept drinking. Granted the alcohol was <em>very<em> shallow in the bottom of each cup. He wasn't even sure what it _was_. It tasted terrible.

He hadn't really been talking to anyone. He just wandered around listening to bits of conversation and eating pieces of whatever food was passed around. It wasn't exactly the big story he'd expected. No adventures, no exciting twists.

Someone bumped into him and he rocked forwards, an arm catching around his waist just in time to keep the hardwood floor from impolitely introducing itself to his face. He smiled dizzily and leaned his head back on a thick shoulder. "Mm. Thanks, Dav-" His eyes opened to a face he only barely recognized from the halls of McKinley. "Not David. Thanks person…" Why had he assumed it was David?

_Because David is the only person here who cares about you,_ a voice in his head scolded.

He shot right back at it. _Shut up, didn't ask you._

"Joel," the guy said with a smile. A really pretty smile, such nice teeth…

Joel, Joel… _Joely Joel, Jooooeeeel… _Kurt hummed the name in his head for awhile before he remembered it. Hockey team. Usually quiet, never got into any trouble... and _really_ cute.

He was still smiling. Kurt wanted to lick his teeth, and the thought made him giggle.

Joel giggled back. "You don't look too good, kid. Maybe you should lay down for awhile. Maybe- maybe… Um-" He cut himself off, looking confused, and snorted a laugh before continuing. "Maybe I should lie down. But you first."

How nice. How strange.

Joel tightened his grip on Kurt's waist and helped him stumble through a mostly-empty hallway into a bedroom that was too neat and stark to be anything but a guest room.

Kurt felt he melted right onto the bed. It was so comfortable. He could stay here, this was good. Soft blanket. This must have been the softest blanket he'd ever-

Lips. Why were there lips?

Kurt kissed back lazily. He missed kisses. He missed Blaine's kisses. They were always soft, gentle, adoring. Patient. Blaine made him feel warm. Joel's kisses were nice too… different, but nice. He tasted different, moved different. But it was nice.

"I like you, Kurt…"

Kurt forced his tired eyes open. Joel really was pretty. Kurt had never cared that he existed, really, before now. But he had nice lips and a nice smile, and Kurt didn't want him to stop. He just gave him a tired smile and nod.

The lips came back, and Kurt was too exhausted, too dizzy to kiss back. He just let the boy kiss him. He didn't mind so terribly, as long as he got to lay still.

Hands on his chest. When had his shirt been unbuttoned? Kisses on his neck. Felt so good. He let his mouth begin to respond again, tongue venturing into Joel's mouth. He forgot to lick Joel's teeth.

"Mm…" Barely audible.

Too tired, but it felt so good. Warm hands. Fingers tweaked his nipple and he whimpered. Good. Not like Blaine. Better? No, different. Wonderful. Don't let it stop.

Joel vanished. No more kisses, no more weight on him.

_Blaine is almost gone,_ he thought desperately. _Don't stop now._

Suddenly there was a sound like a heavy thud. A large hand he didn't recognize gripped his own, another shook his shoulder. "Hummel, you okay?" It was a deep voice, a _familiar _voice.

"Azimio?"

His eyes adjusted. Az looked relieved. "You hurt?"

Kurt shook his head, and with the motion he eyes caught David Karofsky as he hauled Joel out of the room by one arm. "Wha-"

Az rubbed his shoulder soothingly. "Dave was worried about you. He's been keeping an eye on you, but he lost track. I came to help him look."

Kurt gave a weak smile to his once-enemy, not bothering to wonder what had changed. "Didn't need help. I wanted-"

"Man, you are _way_ too drunk to be deciding what you want right now."

David was back, and nearly pushed Azimio aside. Azimio's hands were replaced by David's. He looked so scared. He touched Kurt's face, neck, and arms in turn, then sighed. "Damn it, Fancy, why didn't you just leave when I asked?" His tone was not angry. It was thick, choked with something that… oh, Kurt wasn't sure. _Something_.

Carefully, without letting his fingers brush against Kurt's exposed skin, Dave buttoned up the white shirt. His eyes remained on the buttons, and Kurt's were locked on David's face. Why did he look so hurt?

The shirt was buttoned up. David gently, carefully took Kurt by the hand. "I-" He stopped, cutting himself off, and started again. "I'll drive you home, okay?"

Kurt nodded. Everything was so confusing. Best not to think about it. "Mkay."

Azimio laid a hand on Dave's shoulder. "Look, I can take him, if-"

"No," David cut him off. "I can handle it."

Kurt wondered vaguely if David had been drinking, and if that was why Az had offered.

* * *

><p>The drive home was hazy. David didn't speak, but at every stop sign he reached over and touched Kurt's shoulder, as if to reassure himself that Kurt was there.<p>

They came to a stop in front of the Hummel-Hudson home, and David gripped the steering wheel hard, not looking at his passenger. "You sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm fine." Kurt forced the words out, they were so hard to find.

Dave lay his forehead against the wheel for a moment, and they were both silent. After a moment he lifted up and turned his eyes to Kurt. "I'm so fucking sorry."

Wait, why would he be-

"About all of this. I'm sorry you lost Blaine. I know he made you happy, and you deserve…" He inhaled sharply and then went on. "And Kurt, I'm so sorry I didn't get to you sooner tonight. I tried to look out for you."

"Nothing happened-" Kurt stopped. That look in Dave's eyes…

"It could've." His voice was choked again. His face so hurt, so scared.

Kurt didn't really think before he leaned towards David. He just wanted to kiss him, to make him smile again. To feel what it would've felt like if he hadn't pulled away.

David's strong hands gripped Kurt's shoulders, and held him back. That was unexpected. Kurt tried to push past the resistance, but couldn't.

"Kurt, no," Dave said softly, shaking his head.

Kurt slumped heavily back against his seat, and decided abruptly to look at his hands. "Oh."

"It's not- damn it," David exhaled slowly, not looking away. After a moment he went on. "You don't fucking know, Kurt. You don't understand what it would mean to me if you kissed me."

Their eyes met again, and Kurt shook his head. He was still dizzy, still confused, why was everything so fuzzy… "I-I don't-"

Dave reached over, cupping Kurt's cheek in his hand. He didn't miss the way Kurt nuzzled slightly into the touch, and it made him smile. "But I know now that it doesn't mean anything to me unless it means something to you. I won't make that mistake again. If you ever make that choice, I need it to be _your_ choice. Not because you've just been dumped and you're upset, and not because you had too much to drink. It has to be real. I need it to be."

Kurt didn't remember getting out of the car, walking to the door, collapsing in his bed. David's words swam in his head. They repeated, swam, and sang.

* * *

><p>By Monday morning, Kurt felt a lot better. Despite the usually fuzzy memories, Saturday night would still be considered his eternal reminder that he couldn't and shouldn't handle alcohol. Standing at his locker listening to the rumors move around him, he was relieved that no one seemed to be talking about him. If he was lucky, and if Santana hadn't spotted him that night, the Glee club would remain in the dark forever.<p>

"Um…"

Kurt went rigid at the now familiar voice, and turned his neck stiffly to look at Joel. The swollen black eye was impossible not to notice, and Kurt vaguely remembered hearing the thud after David and Azimio pulled the boy off of him.

He looked shaken, nauseous. "On Saturday, I…"

"Oh my god - Joel, I'm sorry." Kurt almost reached out towards his face, but curled his fingers against his palm instead.

Joel flinched. "No, stop. I'm supposed to be saying that."

Kurt shook his head. "We were both way beyond the point of good decision making. We're lucky that David and Azimio stopped us. But they still shouldn't have _hit_ you."

"Problem here?"

Kurt looked over as Azimio appeared, giving Joel a positively homicidal look. Now that he was sober, Kurt wondered why he cared at all.

Oh.

David must have told him. That was the only explanation. Azimio must know everything. That must be why he'd offered to drive Kurt home, worried that it would be too painful for Dave to be alone with him.

A bit stunned – and frankly, impressed – by the revelation, Kurt smiled up at Azimio. A moment later he forced it back down to a glare, remembering Joel's physical state. "Just out of curiosity, why exactly was it necessary to beat on someone who was guilty of nothing but stupidity? A crime, which, by the way, I also participated in?"

He shrugged. "Don't ask me, porcelain. That was D's fist, I ain't accountable for it."

They both watched as Joel grew steadily more uncomfortable, then abruptly turned and hurried away.

Azimio finally looked over at Kurt's face, and he drew back when he saw the bitchy look that resided there. "Woah, look, if I had to guess – and I mean if I absolutely had to – I'd say it may possibly have something to do with the fact that D maybe can't stand seeing another guy's hands on you."

That was… oddly flattering. Disturbing maybe, but still. Kurt struggled against a smile.

Az saw his struggle and grinned, knowing he was no longer in trouble. "Man, we just gotta be thankful he was never alone with Dapper. Count your blessings, you know what I'm sayin'?"

Kurt chuckled.

* * *

><p>Kurt was sitting in the front row, legs crossed, tapping his fingers against his knee. Just when he started to worry that David hadn't found the note in his locker, he heard the door open and then squeakily swing shut. He listened as David walked down the aisles, and Kurt's eyes didn't leave the empty stage. The other boy laid his backpack on the ground and took the seat next to him.<p>

"Hey."

Kurt didn't answer. He stared for a long time at the unmoving curtains. Such stillness, such quiet. His heart was beating faster than it had any right to, and he felt tingles running along his skin. His nerves were tearing him apart.

He didn't speak a word before he turned and leaned in. David pulled back the smallest bit, but Kurt closed that distance too and placed a hand on Dave's neck to pull him closer. Their lips met, and David didn't resist.

Kurt pulled out of the timid kiss quickly, but held his face only inches from David's. "You watched over me when I had been rude to you, rescued me from losing my virginity in a flurry of bad decision making. You drove me home and then you refused to take advantage of me despite being offered something you obviously want very badly. That kiss was just a thank you."

David's face fell. Disappointment enveloped him, and he started to move away.

Kurt brought his other hand to David's neck as well, and the boy stopped. They held each other's gaze for a long time. Confusion and fear swam in Dave's eyes as he braced himself for the worst.

A smile crossed Kurt's face then. "But this…" Kurt's voice was a whisper, his hands beginning to tremble. "_This_ one is because I like you."


End file.
